Long Live The Queen
by Shasta627
Summary: She feels like an imposter, standing up there. Like she's tricking them all into believing she's the person they're looking for, the person they want. But she's not, and she's never felt so out of place in all her life. The people need Elena, not her. But Elena is gone, so Isabel must take her place. [Character Death. One-shot. Isabel angst.]


_**A/N: Written for the Bonus Day of EoA Appreciation Week 2k19, which had the prompt of "Song Lyrics." And...I literally have no explanation for this piece other than I like angst and torturing my faves xP Anyway, read and enjoy~! (also the cover artwork was done by me! :D)**_

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"_Long live the queen but the queen is dead,_

_I'm just a kid with a crown on my head…" _

Warm light filters into the room, the sun's rays illuminating the walls with an ethereal golden glow as Isabel stands there, her head raised before the mirror. Large, russet brown eyes stare back at her, their striking appearance only enhanced by the dark kohl meticulously applied around the lids. She is an image of pure beauty, from her rosy, delicate cheeks to her soft, wavy hair that gracefully frames her face. She looks years older than she truly is but feels ancient nonetheless, still struggling to come to terms with everything that has so suddenly taken place.

There's a knock on the door and Naomi leans through the doorway, her eyes meeting Isabel's through the mirror. "It's time to go," is all she says, and then she looks at Isabel in her immaculate blue gown and a small smile graces her lips, yet her eyes betray the sorrow they all feel. "You look beautiful," she adds, and then closes the door, allowing the young girl a few more seconds to prepare.

Isabel checks her reflection once more before she grabs the tiara on her dresser, the ruby in the center flashing brightly in the sun's beams. She sets it atop her head and does her best not to stare at it too long, not wishing to be reminded of how much better it looks on someone wearing red. With a deep breath she smooths out the nonexistent wrinkles on her dress with shaking hands and opens the door, meeting Naomi in the hallway. The sooner they get it over with, the better.

"_I shouldn't have to bare this much weight_

_But it's too late, too late_

_The devil's already sealed my fate…"_

Naomi leads the way through the palace halls, halls that once seemed so bright and cheerful to Isabel but now loom over her, casting shadows across her face as she is led to the fate she never wanted. As they walk Isabel keeps her eyes on the back of Naomi's head, counting the seconds between every few steps to distract herself from the memories she tries so futilely to escape.

But it's hard. It's too unbearably hard, when everything in the palace reminds Isabel of _her. _She can't escape, no matter how hard she tries. Every door, every painting, and every object they pass is connected to a memory of Elena_, _and the palace is so cold and empty without her cheerful laughter ringing through the halls, without the graceful touch and charm that she exuded with every word or smile that passed her lips.

It isn't the same anymore. It will never be the same. Elena made the place home and now that she's gone the light is gone too. Her fire went out and left them stumbling in the dark, unable to seek out the warmth and comfort they all so desperately desire.

Especially today, Isabel thinks as they finally arrive at the throne room. She knows once she passes through those doors she can't lose control. She can't give into the monster of grief lying in wait, ready to strangle her heart with the pain and guilt and anguish and consume her mind with the hopeless desolation that she's been so carefully bottling up. But she's managed to keep her composure this far, so what's a few more minutes in comparison?

The doors open and everyone is there, waiting for her to enter. She fists her hands into the fabric of her gown and forces her feet to move forward. She can't bare to look into their faces, to see their mournful expressions and eyes full of pity. She knows everyone is suffering but today she allows herself to selfishly believe that she's suffering the worst of all.

She takes slow, careful steps as she walks. Her breathing is steady but on the inside her heart is pounding furiously, her mind running nonstop. Why did Elena have to face the darkness all on her own? Why couldn't she have waited, and found some other way to save Avalor? Because now she's gone and everyone is looking to Isabel to lead them but she can't. The grand council unanimously decided that she'd be given the same trial run of being crown princess until she's older, but Isabel couldn't care less—it was all the same to her. She's just a kid, only thirteen, and she can't rule a kingdom even if it was with a council. She doesn't even _want _to rule. She's never wanted to have to fill the huge shoes that Elena left behind, shoes that can never fit her small feet no matter how many times she tries to wear them.

Angry tears well up behind her eyes as she stops on the steps leading up to the throne. How could Elena _do _this to her? How could she leave her all on her own like this? She promised to always be there for her, so where is she now, when Isabel needs her the most?

Her abuelo comes to stand in front of her, his hands shaking as he holds out Elena's scepter for her to take. She does, but the crystal doesn't glow when she touches it. It stays dull and blue, only further spotlighting the differences between her and her sister. He gives her shoulders a tight squeeze before he sits back down again.

"_Standing alone in a crowded room _

_I don't belong here, I want to leave soon…"_

Isabel clutches the scepter close to her chest before turning around to face the audience. It looks like half of Avalor is there to watch the ceremony. The room starts to spin and her head is pounding, yet there's nothing she can do now. She swallows heavily as Esteban now comes up to stand beside her and begins to say a few words, but all Isabel hears is a dull ringing in her ears. She wants this to end. She doesn't understand why they have to have such an official ceremony for it, when everyone already knows the title is hers now. But both her grandparents and cousin insisted that is was custom and had to be done no matter the circumstances, and she was too overwrought to argue and so here she is now. Her eyes flicker over the audience for a brief second and immediately land on Elena's friends, which she soon realizes is a mistake. All three of them stand there, staring at her with identical masks of despondency on their faces. Neither Naomi, Gabe, or Mateo are crying, but their eyes clearly convey what they're all wishing for; that they were staring at Elena standing up there with the crown instead of her. Isabel looks away, biting her tongue so hard she can taste blood.

She wishes Elena was here instead of her, too.

Esteban is still talking, but then he turns to her, evidently ready to wrap up his speech. "From this day forth," he concludes, his voice strained with emotion. "Isabel Castillo Flores is hereby the official crown princess of Avalor, and furthermore, our future queen."

A smattering of applause ripples through the audience, then grows louder as more people join in. Someone in the crowd cheers, "Long live the queen!", and soon the cry echoes around the room as people continue to clap.

She feels like an imposter, standing up there. Like she's tricking them all into believing she's the person they're looking for, the person they want. But she's not, and she's never felt so out of place in all her life.

Isabel lifts her eyes to the ceiling. She promised herself she wouldn't cry, that she'd be strong, but she can't. Not anymore.

Not without Elena.

And as the cheers eventually begin to die down, she can't help the hot, steady tears of misery that slowly begin to stream down her face.

"_Long live the queen, they say, Long live the queen_

_But haven't they heard? Why can't they see?_

_Long live the queen, but the queens not me..."_


End file.
